I will take time to be alone today. I will take time to be quiet. In this silence I will listen… and I will hear my answers. – Ruth Fishel

Last Memorial Day weekend, while the rest of the country was enjoying the roar of the Indy 500, screaming crowds at the NBA playoffs, or just noisy families, I was sitting in complete silence – by myself. Three nights and nearly four full days, with much of that time sitting on the bench you see in the photo above.

Regular readers know I work hard at cultivating a process of personal reflection, and I’ll take a couple days a few times a year to get away. This past weekend, on fairly short notice, a “room” opened up at the New Camaldoli Hermitage, a Benedictine monastery only about 50 miles north of me on the dramatic Big Sur coastline of California. It wasn’t my first time at a monastery, but it was the longest stay – and the first one where total silence was required of the dozen “retreatants” that stay with the fourteen monks.

Total really means nearly total. If you want to speak with a fellow retreatant, you head down the two mile driveway to the Pacific Coast Highway. After just a few hours I removed the battery from the clock in my room as the faint tick-tock was unbearable. The only human-created sound is the church bell that rings before prayer services four or five times a day beginning at 5:15am, and you can attend to hear the monks chanting the Psalms. I did several times as the spiritual energy puts some aspects of life into perspective. You can also request spiritual guidance from a monk, which would be verbal while in a private room. I did, as I’ll describe below.

I put “room” in quotes because the accommodations are decidedly minimalist. A tiny room, single [very hard] bed, desk, and a half bath. You share a shower. The monks provide one cooked meal each day at noon which you take back to your room to eat, and you can use the well-stocked kitchen to snack at other times. It’s your responsibility to make your bed, clean your room, do your dishes, and take your towels and bedding to the laundry at the end of your stay. There is no TV, phone, cell service, or internet, so you are completely cut off. Your room isn’t locked. Not my usual travel expectations, but perfect for this experience where I wanted to simply reflect on what I really need and want in life.

The monks from the Order of St. Benedict are a great bunch, and I’ve always admired their particular tradition of contemplative spirituality. They find a lot in common with eastern meditative traditions like Buddhism, and in fact, the Hermitage bookstore is filled with books on other faiths, particularly Buddhism. There were even books that I considered too new-agey for even my granola-munching legal-cannabis-toking Californian mindset. I was still a little surprised to find a Dhammapada in my room, in addition to the Bible.

One of my favorite authors, in addition to Trappist monk Thomas Merton, is Benedictine monk David Steindl-Rast, who coincidentally spent some time at the Hermitage. Steindl-Rast has studied and written extensively on the commonalities between aspects of Christianity and Buddhism, and even has a fantastic TED Talk on the power of gratitude. Pretty spry guy for being over 90, eh? If you just have a couple more minutes, skip the rest of this post and go watch his talk. I devoured several books by Steindl-Rast, Merton, and Thich Nhat Hanh on this trip.

I’ve long felt that a regular habit of intentional reflection is a very powerful component of effective leadership – both professional and personal. Back in my corporate days I’d take my executive staff offsite for a quarterly retreat where we’d spend the morning reflecting on how we were doing vis-a-vis our principles and strategies, then in the afternoon we’d spend time together interacting on a more personal level, which is when some of our most brilliant ideas arose. Having it at a winery a mile away, with the free-flowing amenities you can imagine, helped everyone feel comfortable participating.

Before I go on a retreat I set some goals and create a rough schedule. This time I wanted time to reflect on various aspects of my life – personal, professional, health, friends, family, and so forth. I also wanted time to do quite a bit of reading, and I especially wanted time to just sit. It’s in those times of sitting, in solitude and silence, when I often have the greatest insight. Jon Miller has written severalarticles on tips for doing hansei – reflection – which I also reviewed.

Over those four days I took nearly thirty pages of notes in my journal. I had several insights on how issues I thought were a big deal were in reality far less significant, and on aspects of my life that I thought were unimportant really should be more important. I reviewed old goals and created new ones, decided on activities to start, and perhaps most importantly, what I should stop doing. One of my favorite books, Greg McKeown’s Essentialism, was part of my reading at my reflection in Panama a couple years ago, and the concepts have stuck.

I did meet with a monk for “spiritual guidance,” but in my case the guidance was directly related to my reflection. He was intrigued with my reflection process (because, done right, it really is a defined process), and offered a great suggestion to take time to intentionally reflect again on the thirty pages of notes from my reflection. I took his advice, and after a few hours I had a new distilled and condensed set of notes that added even more clarity and direction. That second level of hansei is something I’ll incorporate into my regular reflection from now on.

As is usually the case, my wife immediately noticed the difference when I returned home. She knows how important this process is to me and encourages me to take a few days alone every so often. Or maybe she just enjoys having the house to herself for a bit.

Do you have a process of personal reflection? If so, is it really a defined and intentional process? I believe it is a critical component of effective personal and professional leadership. Consider my process and Jon’s tips I linked to above, but it’s important to make it your own. Then take some time and reflect. You’ll be amazed at what you learn and the clarity it creates. If you’re up for it, try doing it in silence, perhaps at your nearest monastery! But you’ll find it really hard to beat the view at the Hermitage!

Solitude gives birth to the original in us, to beauty, unfamiliar and perilous….
– Thomas Mann

We have become used to a world that floods our senses and keeps us entertained 24/7. Think back to a time before radio and TV, perhaps even before books. Besides working to increase the population, what did people do? They thought, and pondered, and created new ideas. They learned about others and themselves. In the modern world, we’ve lost some of that ability, and we need to make a conscious effort to get it back.

When we’re alone, with just ourselves and when not overtly meditating, our thoughts gel and reassemble into priorities and actionable concepts. What used to be a jumble begins to make sense. Conflicting priorities give way to clear direction. Seemingly insurmountable obstacles are put in their proper perspective. Most of us have experienced this, either alone or perhaps when our team is at an offsite meeting (in solitude as a team).

As I described in the introduction, the power of solitude was my first experience with Zen. In the midst of personal and profes- sional chaos, I flew myself to Hawaii on a few hours notice, and just sat on a beach. I breathed
in the fragrant air, listened to the birds and waves, and had a glass of wine by myself. My thoughts slowed, my priorities realigned, and I reconnected with myself.

Lately, I’ve found I can obtain the same benefit by driving with the radio off, taking a walk on the nearby beach, or even just sitting on the porch in the morning. Alone, just my thoughts and me.

Embrace solitude as an intentional part of your leadership routine. Take your daily commute with the radio turned off, or go for a weekly walk on an empty beach. Find a place to be alone, even if it is just a few times a year while on vacation (many executives plan a couple days alone at the end of business trips). The more frequently you make solitude part of your leadership habits, the more settled and aligned your thoughts will be. In addition to having it be part of your personal routine, consider ways to make solitude a part of your team’s dynamics, such as via offsite meetings.

Unless you try to do something beyond what you have already mastered, you will never grow.
– Ralph Waldo Emerson

Acquiring new knowledge and perspectives helps you grow within your general area of comfort or interest. To really grow, you need to stretch yourself outside of that comfort zone by learning or experiencing something completely different. In addition to acquiring the new skill, knowledge, or experience, you also create confidence in your ability to break boundaries. This can help you awaken to your true meaning.

A couple years ago, I came across an article by Heather Kelly on CNN.com (“Mark Zuckerberg’s Bizarre New Self-Improvement Goal”) about how Facebook’s Mark Zuckerberg sets an annual “challenge” goal:

Every year, the Facebook CEO sets some sort of challenge for himself. In 2009, he vowed to wear a tie to work every day to show he was serious about Facebook’s growth (and possibly get a break from the signature T-shirt and hoodie he wears to every public event). In 2010, he tried to learn Mandarin.

The annual challenges sometimes make headlines, most famously in 2011 when Zuck vowed to eat animals only if he had killed them himself. That pronouncement led to a mixture of backlash and praise from animal-rights activists.

This year [2012], the famously introverted Zuckerberg is seeking out more conversations with actual humans.

Seeking out more human interaction as a goal seems a bit odd until you think about the world that the young founder of Facebook lives in: a rarified air of groupies, yes-men, analysts, and press types. Interacting with “actual humans” is probably a challenge. Why is that bizarre? I applaud him for it. In 2013, Zuckerberg’s goal was to meet someone new every day; in 2014, he challenged himself to write one thank you note each day; and in 2015, he read a new book every other week.

A key outcome to these challenges is that he learns something new and (often) unexpected. Trying to learn Mandarin taught him that he didn’t listen well, and a year of killing animals made him consider becoming vegetarian. Zuckerberg’s 2012 goal, to converse with humans, helped him understand the personal side of immigration issues.

The reason Zuckerberg’s “bizarre” goals resonated with me is because I have had similar goals for well over twenty years. At first they weren’t true goals—they were just something fun to do. But for the last decade or more, the goals have been formal, with a process for identifying, executing and reviewing progress.

Over the past couple decades, I learned to scuba dive, windsurf, and code HTML by hand. I wrote a book, rebuilt a yellow 1973 Triumph Spitfire, became a vegetarian (rather, a “pescaterian”), skied in five different European countries over six days, started a blog, and ran a full marathon. Toward the end of each year, I identify something to try that is different, unique, or challenging, and develop a plan to dive into it. During the next year, I execute, reflect, and adjust based on my observations. Sound familiar? Plan, do, study, act.

In 2012, my goal was to leave a great job as president of a medical device company and take more control of my life. I notified the board in January, executed a transition plan for myself and the company, and, like a skydiver jumping out of a perfectly good airplane, left full-time secure employment on December 31st. I’m loving it, and the move also created positive secondary effects for the company: a great new Lean leader was developed to replace me and the company got a fresh infusion of Lean energy.

One of my other recent goals—related to this book—was to learn about and understand Buddhism, something I’d bumped into during my trips to Asia and also while living in California. I read books about it, talked to a lot of people, and in a sense, went to the gemba by spending a few weeks in Bhutan and Nepal. I learned about Zen’s history, how it evolved and split into the Theravada and Mahayana traditions, how Mahayana then evolved into Pure Land, Tibetan, and the Zen tradition that’s increasingly popular in the West. What I learned changed how I understood myself.

My goal this year is to read an important work of literature from each of the major ethnic groups or cultures: Latin American, Chinese, Indian, African, and so forth. My annual exploration takes me down some interesting and often unexpected paths, teaching me new thoughts, knowledge, or activities.

The point is that many people say they “think outside the box” but most do not actually explore outside the box. Relatively few people live with an open mind, and even fewer create goals to stretch themselves. Most people find it very difficult to put processes and hansei in place (Zuckerberg apparently does) because it is easier to talk than to act.

I can’t claim credit for knowingly thinking outside the box, especially initially. I sort of fell into doing it. But trying new things has broadened my perspectives by challenging my old perceptions and beliefs. It has deepened my understanding of the world we live in and taken me to interesting places—both physical and spiritual—that I previously wasn’t even aware of.

How will you explore out of the box next year? Perhaps more importantly, how will you ensure you actually do it, and why?

Over the past few years I’ve been working hard on cultivating positive habits. New habits can be powerful. But habits can also create barriers that limit our perspective, which can hinder kaizen, creativity, and even our knowledge of ourselves. The proverbial “rut,” and we’ve all been there at times in our lives.

Sometimes we just need a break to re-center, recalibrate, recharge, or readjust your horizons. In the Zen world, this is datsuzoku, a break from the routine. Datsuzoku can be as simple as getting a good night’s sleep or as common as taking a week of vacation. It is also a great time for reflection.

I have a fairly standardized reflection routine, hansei, that includes a daily reflection in the evening, more extensive monthly and quarterly reflections, and an in-depth annual reflection where I also set goals for the upcoming year.

How am I doing, mentally, spiritually, and physically? What am I grateful for? What do I need to forgive myself for? Am I on track to achieve my personal and professional goals? What countermeasures do I need to put in place? What new opportunities can I create? What should I do more or less of? What activities or thoughts should I stop? Regularly reflecting and asking (and answering!) those questions is critical for effective professional and personal leadership.

I’m currently back in Hawaii for a few days, a break from the routine that helps augment a quarterly reflection. Hawaii is a special place for me as my wife was born here, we were married here, and the wind, sun, and waves seem to transmit and infuse nature’s energy in a deeper and more meaningful way than other tropical locales. I may do some work in the early morning or late evening, but during the day I disconnect, soak in the ocean, read, and reflect.

It’s been a good start to the year and I’m happy with my progress toward several goals. As I wrote in January, each year I set a goal to “do something different” and this year it was to read a work of fiction from a different culture each month. So far this year:

The Kite Runner was especially good, while One Hundred Years of Solitude was engaging but difficult due to a large family where everyone had very similar names.

I have also made considerable progress on my own book, The Simple Leader, and it should be published in late May. The copyediting process was very humbling, but the comments I’ve received from other authors that have reviewed it are gratifying.

And, after Paul Akers inspired me toward the end of last year, I’ve continued my lean health journey and have reached my original goal to lose 30 pounds and become much stronger. Being in better shape than I’ve been in over 30 years feels great! Now to sustain and refine.

As I was reflecting on my personal and professional goals I began to realize that some of them may be based on faulty assumptions, based purely on my perceptions (or, even worse, the accepted perceptions of others!) and bias rather than fact.

In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, in the expert’s mind there are few.
– Shunryu Suzuki

One of the core concepts of Zen is shoshin, or “beginner’s mind.” This is a perspective that is free of preconceived ideas and opinions, and is open to new thought. Embracing shoshin requires “unlearning” what you thought you already knew—in effect, creating a beginner’s mind.

As we become older and supposedly wiser, creating a beginner’s mind can become increasingly difficult. It becomes even more so when an entire team or organization needs to unlearn and develop a beginner’s perspective. Unlearning is critical in a Lean environment as so many of the concepts initially appear counterintuitive, such as one piece flow vs. batch production.

Being biased is a result of not having a beginner’s mind. There are many forms of bias – confirmation, loss aversion, conformity, survivorship, and anchoring just to name a few.

How do we create a beginner’s mind? Begin by focusing on questions, not answers. When observing a process, especially one you’ve seen many times, try to avoid jumping ahead to conclusions. Take one step (one question) at a time. Similarly, be aware that what seems like common sense may not be. Avoid using the word “should” as it implies a predetermined or expected outcome. Be careful with experience. What you already know should be an input, not a given. Be comfortable with saying “I don’t know.”

So when you reflect – daily, monthly, quarterly, or whenever, also take the time to think about your perspective. Do you need to unlearn? Do you need to free yourself from bias? How will you do that?

Being honest with yourself will enhance the reflection process and help you make smarter, more rational decisions.

My post a couple weeks ago on Gratitude, for Gratitude, generated a large number of responses. Interestingly, most were private, commenting on both the nature of gratitude but especially on my daily routine. I had detailed my regular set of activities in the morning, including meditation and the setting of three key priorities, and in the evening of reflecting on my performance with those priorities. Many folks mentioned that they had morning and perhaps evening routines, but said they had not thought about reflection – let alone intentional reflection.

My contemplation of those comments was brought into focus a bit when I came across a passage in the book Kurt Vonnegut: Letters, edited by Dan Wakefield. It’s a fascinating, funny, and, since it’s Vonnegut, sometimes freaky book that takes you inside the mind of the famous author. The passage of import is a letter he wrote to his wife Jane where he describes his daily routine.

In an unmoored life like mine, sleep and hunger and work arrange themselves to suit themselves, without consulting me. I’m just as glad they haven’t consulted me about the tiresome details. What they have worked out is this: I awake at 5:30, work until 8:00, eat breakfast at home, work until 10:00, walk a few blocks into town, do errands, go to the nearby municipal swimming pool, which I have all to myself, and swim for half an hour, return home at 11:45, read the mail, eat lunch at noon. In the afternoon I do schoolwork, either teach of prepare. When I get home from school at about 5:30, I numb my twanging intellect with several belts of Scotch and water ($5.00/fifth at the State Liquor store, the only liquor store in town. There are loads of bars, though.), cook supper, read and listen to jazz (lots of good music on the radio here), slip off to sleep at ten.

Of course most people have routines, and many people like learning about the routines of famous or successful people. One common characteristic that most people know of is that they are almost invariably early risers – Winston Churchill being the exception as someone who loved to stay in bed until 11am. I tend to agree – my favorite, and most productive, time of the day is between 4 and 8 am.

Benjamin Franklin is famous for his routine, which he meticulously tracked on a daily log. Yes, that does look remarkably similar to a leader standard work sheet, doesn’t it? Notice the two tasks on the left.

The morning question, What good shall I do today?

The evening question, What good have I done today?

In other words, setting tasks for the day in the morning, and reflecting on them in the evening. When you search for the routines of successful (however defined) people, that evening reflection is also a common attribute.

Reflection, along with gratitude as I previously discussed, is a key attribute of leadership success.

Many, if not most, people have daily routines. It is the reflection at the end of the day that makes it an intentional routine. That intentionality is also a core component of mindfulness. An awareness of the routine itself, instead of being simply a habitual series of activities. Reflection looks back at the process and results and, most importantly, provides the introspection and analysis to improve the routine and performance generated by the routine.

How did the routine affect performance against the key tasks for the day? How effective is that task selection itself? How can the routine be improved to better support task completion?

Reflection, hansei in the lean world, is a powerful professional leadership tool. It’s how we look back on projects and performance, and identify ways to improve. But it is also a powerful, and critical, personal leadership characteristic to improve daily performance.

Reflection converts simple habits into an intentional, high performing, routine. It’s worth a few minutes each evening.

This Thanksgiving I am thankful for learning the power of being thankful. More than ever I am convinced it is the most powerful personal and professional leadership habit.

For years I have had an increasingly refined and meaningful daily routine. Each morning I begin the day with the following:

Twenty minutes of meditation in classic Zen style using the counting of breaths to slow the mind and become truly aware of the present. This is remarkably difficult to do – it took months of practice to get to even five minutes, a reflection of how voluminous the flow of ideas and thoughts really is. Meditation is often confused with prayer, but it’s very different although also very complementary. It is an intentional slowing of the flow of thoughts in order to understand that flow of thoughts, to become mindful and aware.

Five minutes of giving thanks and prayer, always trying to find one new person or thing to be thankful for.

Five minutes of silent planning, identifying the three key tasks I want to complete today, in line with my personal and professional hoshin. With practice, five minutes is more than enough time. I then write those down. Once again, writing by hand into a notebook creates ownership and understanding – unlike typing into an electronic planner.

Only afterwards do I read The Wall Street Journal, have coffee, and check email. At some point in the day there’s a crossfit class, beach run, or other exercise. Then in the evenings I have a complementary routine:

Review the three key tasks I wrote down to see if they were completed. It’s amazing how much can get done if just three meaningful tasks are truly accomplished each and every day.

A few minutes of hansei reflection on why or why not those tasks were accomplished and, most importantly, what I will change in order to do a better job at accomplishing them tomorrow.

A few minutes of thanks and gratitude. Lately this is done out under the stars in my new ofuro soaking tub, with a glass of rhone blend. There is nothing quite as humbling as looking up at millions of stars, especially with a minor buzz.

The periods of reflection on gratitude at the beginning and end of each day create calm bookends to what can be chaos. As problem solvers we are naturally dispositioned to focus on the negative, taking for granted the positive – to the extent that we often become oblivious and unaware of just how much positive there is in our lives. Creating an intentional focus on gratitude realigns that perspective back to reality. Then expressing that gratitude in daily life by realizing the waste of complaining, complimenting and helping others, or just smiling, reinforces the power of being thankful.

Intentionally discovering gratitude, every day, has changed my perspective on life more than any other personal or professional leadership habit. I’ve discovered I have a lot to be thankful for.

I am thankful for parents and family that continue to instill in me the ability to think independently and trust my instincts, act courageously and take appropriate risks, have a desire to see the world, and explore the strong spiritual foundation that they have surrounded me with.

I am thankful that this desire to explore has let me visit over fifty countries, going and seeing, to better understand. This helps create reality where most just have perceptions, unfortunately generally incorrect, created by sound bites and the Facebook culture.

I am thankful that the strong spiritual foundation I was raised on has grown even stronger as I explored its nooks and crannies, morphed into forms I wouldn’t have expected, and has become very real. I feel sad for those who have not felt the hand of God, very visibly and directly in my case, as that unmistakable reality creates incredible comfort and peace.

I am thankful for my wife, who accepts me for the sometimes strange creature I am, trusts me to make good decisions for our family, and is my enthusiastic partner in exploring the world.

I am thankful for the lessons learned from difficulty, in particular the struggles over years with a family member’s medical condition that has helped me become much more understanding, compassionate, loving, and kind.

I am thankful for special friends that have been there for me during those times of difficulty, helping to guide and support me in many ways. They ask for nothing in return, although I will spend the rest of my life trying to find ways to return the favor – to them and to others.

I am thankful for the opportunity to live where I do, in the peacefulness of a small town on the coast, being able to look at the sun setting over the ocean each evening. The beauty of nature reflects God.

I am thankful for the ability to think abstractly, to wonder about what I don’t know, and to embrace possibility. As just one example I am fascinated by quantum entanglement theory and the potential ramifications on communication, the connections between life in the universe, and the soul itself. Is this the link between science and God?

I am thankful for the wisdom of colleagues I have met over the years, in the lean world and beyond, who have taught me so much which has enabled my success. Those colleagues, including readers of this blog, continually challenge me and help me grow.

I am thankful for my Gemba Academy business partners who align with my desire to teach, give back, and create a great company for our team members, instead of simply focusing on growth and profit. Interestingly, more growth and profit seems to come by teaching, giving back, and creating a great company. Funny how that happens…

I am thankful for our Gemba Academy team members, who are the foundation for our success, and are truly a pleasure to work with each day. Every day I am energized by their creativity, talent, and drive.